Chapter 8
The next morning Nat finally wandered downstairs to find father and son both up and about. She’d been lying in bed, wide awake, putting off the inevitable after a long restless night, Alessandro’s perfect flat abdomen and the hot lick of his tongue taunting her through elusive layers of sleep.
The very last thing she wanted to do was face him again. But she wasn’t a coward either, so she’d hauled herself out of bed, showered and dressed to face the day.
The man in question looked up from his bowl of cereal when she entered the kitchen. He was shirtless in just a pair of pyjama bottoms and his hair was rumpled. Avoiding the acres of bare flesh, her gaze travelled over his face. He looked like he’d slept even less than she had.
And yet still he looked better than any man had a right to.
Determined to reset from last night, she gave him a bright smile and kept her eyes firmly trained on his eyes. ‘Where’s Julian?’
Alessandro’s gaze raked over her. Over the fall of her hair hanging loose for a change, the ends still a little damp from the shower.
Over her sundress with a scooped neckline that sat wide on her shoulders with thin straps that tied in bows.
He eyed those bows for a moment, his jaw clenching a couple of times as if they offended him, before he dropped his gaze back to his bowl.
‘Watching television.’
Sucking in a slow, steady breath and ignoring whatever mood this was, she advanced into the kitchen and headed for the coffee pot. ‘Why aren’t you in there with him?’
‘I asked him if he wanted me to watch with him and he said no.’
Nat had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. ‘Don’t ask next time.’ Hell, it wasn’t rocket science.
He glanced at her swiftly, his mouth a flat slash as their eyes met. ‘I’m trying not to push him too hard.’
She opened her mouth to tell him that it was okay to push a little in some situations but Julian bustled into the room and she tore her gaze from Alessandro’s.
‘Nat! Oh, Nat! You’re here. You’re really still here!’
Julian launched himself at her, throwing his arms around her legs and squashing his cheek against her thigh. She laughed as she hugged his little body to her legs. ‘Of course, silly. I can’t leave until my house is built!’
She grinned and ruffled his hair, glancing at Alessandro. He was watching them, his face grave and brooding and she wondered if it was hard for him to watch Julian being affectionate with another woman. Someone other than his mother.
Did it emphasise his loss even more? Twist the knife just a little bit deeper?
Peeling Julian off her legs, she announced, ‘I’m making toast – do you want some?’
The little boy’s curls bounced wildly as he nodded and clapped his hands. ‘I love toast!’
Nat busied herself with Julian, chatting away as they shoved slice after slice of bread into the toaster.
When they were done she carried it over to the central station where Alessandro was apparently reading a journal.
She helped Julian climb on to the stool opposite his father and then plonked the loaded plate in the middle.
She topped up their coffees and sat down next to Julian.
‘Toast,’ she said pointedly to Alessandro’s downcast head. ‘Eat up. We made enough to feed an army.’
Julian giggled and she grinned at him but all the while she was hyper-aware of Alessandro and she almost sagged against the counter when his long, bronzed fingers reached for a slice. His gaze, heavy and intense, had been on her the entire time they’d been at the toaster and it had been unnerving.
Nat wished she knew what he was thinking behind the brooding mask.
Was he remembering what had happened in this kitchen only yesterday or her unscheduled visit to his room last night?
Was he in some spiral of guilt and grief over it all?
Because as she and Julian chatted it was obvious he wasn’t taking any of it in, just chewing his toast like it was cardboard instead of warm with melty puddles of butter and rivulets of sweet, sticky honey.
‘Alessandro,’ she said, a little sharper than she meant to as Julian waited expectantly for his father’s input into the topic under discussion, the sparkle of excitement in his eyes fading.
He blinked then and Nat watched as his focus returned to the conversation. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, looking from one to the other. ‘I was… a million miles away.’
‘I was just assuring Julian,’ she said, trying to keep the icicles out of her voice, ‘that you’re going to help us with the boxes today. Get his room decked out.’
Dark eyes roved over the top of Julian’s downcast head. ‘Oh…’ He eyed her. ‘I do have some work to catch up on.’
Nat blinked. Honestly, the man was hopeless!
She glanced at Julian, whose bottom lip trembled ever so slightly, before glaring across at Alessandro.
‘Julian.’ Nat kept her voice bright and friendly.
‘Why don’t you see if Flo wants a piece of toast?
’ She scooped up the last cold piece. ‘Take it out to the laundry and break it into small pieces.’
As if she’d offered him a lifeline, Julian grabbed the toast and climbed down quickly from the stool, practically running out of the kitchen. Nat watched Alessandro watch him go with those bleak eyes before placing her mug down, her control rapidly dwindling.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she demanded in a low voice. ‘I just set up the perfect opportunity to spend time with Julian.’
The look he gave her was chilly. ‘He doesn’t want me to help. He couldn’t even look at me. I’m not going to force myself on him.’
Nat got off her stool and stormed over to the coffee pot, pouring herself another. She turned to face him, leaning against the bench, pleased to be far away from his naked chest.
‘Sometimes you have to push, Alessandro. He’s four. You’re the adult. You’re going to have to meet in the middle and that starts with spending time with him.’
‘And what if it has the opposite effect?’ Alessandro’s eyes were dark and troubled as the words tumbled out. ‘What if he can’t handle what’s inside, what if it brings up stuff he was just getting over?’
‘Oh.’ Suddenly Nat understood that this might not be about Julian at all.
He pinned her with a glare. ‘What does “Oh” mean?’
‘It means that maybe what’s in those boxes might be hard for you to deal with, too.’
Raising an imperious eyebrow, he said, ‘Let’s steer clear of the amateur psychology.’
Except Nat had no intention of complying. ‘It’s understandable. They’re your memories. Of your wife and the life you had with her, the one you left behind.’
He opened his mouth, in what looked like for sure was a rejection, but Nat didn’t have time for his denials. She hadn’t been employed to look out for Alessandro, she was here for Julian.
‘But they’re his memories too, Alessandro.
He’s on the other side of the world, far away from everything that’s ever been familiar to him.
Even his relationship with you is different now.
He’s a child. He needs his things around him.
And not just in his bedroom but all around him.
And he needs to feel like this is home. Not some temporary, half-lived-in dwelling. ’
She drew breath for a moment then plunged on again.
‘You wanted me to help. You wanted him happy and laughing again. Well, it starts here, Alessandro. And you need to be part of it. Might there be some emotional fallout? Probably. But maybe that’s just what the two of you need.
Besides, you might be surprised what he can handle. ’
His jaw clenched as if he was biting back a response that was burning to get out. ‘Fine,’ he said stiffly as he stood. ‘If you think it will help.’
Nat, who’d opened her mouth to strengthen her argument, firmly closed it as he picked up his mug and bowl and moved towards her, heading for the sink, his abdominal muscles shifting enticingly with each footfall.
She told herself not to look – she was mad with him, damn it – but it was compelling scenery.
She gripped the mug hard in case she reached out and touched.
Pausing at the sink, he drained the dregs of his mug, which he then placed inside the bowl in the sink. Nat’s gaze followed his movements, admiring the glide of his bronzed skin over toned muscle. It wasn’t until he was facing her that she realised he was saying something.
Clearly, it was her turn to be preoccupied.
Dragging her gaze from the strip of hair that arrowed down from his belly button, she murmured, ‘I’m sorry, what?’
She met his gaze but neither of them said anything for a moment, which stilled the breath in her lungs. Was he was thinking about last night and how she’d stared at him then, too? The slightest ghost of a smile touched his lips but thankfully he didn’t call her on her lack of attention.
‘I said when do you want to start?’
Nat’s brain grappled with the simple sentence, her annoyance at her own lack of control like a rusty nail in her brain. Bloody hell – it was just a chest! No reason to lose her mind. Every man had one. Rob had had one.
Except, of course, she’d never felt this inexplicable primal swell of lust at the mere sight of Rob. Not even in the beginning.
‘Soon. A few minutes.’ Briskly, she pushed away from the bench, the need to get the hell away from him and all his warm, male flesh becoming imperative. ‘And for God’s sake,’ she threw over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. ‘Put a shirt on.’
Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting on their haunches in Julian’s stark room with three boxes labelled Child in front of them. Alessandro – a navy T-shirt firmly in situ – took a deep breath preparing himself for the contents.